I was in a large auditorium
with my mother. About 20 middle-aged women were standing in
a line waiting for something. My mother asked me what they were
waiting for. I told her they were waiting for an audition for a
part in a play. It was a bit of a pathetic sight for some of the
women. I recognized one woman whom I had seen once before waiting
in a similar line. She somewhat reminded me of my mother. She was
a tall slender woman (about 40 years old). She wore a
long pale-green dress which fell to her ankles. On the back of
her dress on her shoulders were pinned two faded cloth flowers;
she also seemed to have some kind of faded feathers in her hair.
The woman was desperately trying to get a part, but she had
little chance. She wasn't part of the click that obtained such
parts.

Another woman (about 50 years
old) walked up and shook hands with the woman. These two women
weren't part of the upper echelon of people in this town who
always got the parts in plays and more or less controlled the
acting scene. Neither woman had any connections and neither had
little chance of ever having any.

I myself was like that to some
degree. I didn't have connections in any specific artistic
circle. However, in my case, my lack of connections somehow didn't seem important. It might not be a bad idea for me to have
such connections, but having connections seemed artificial and an
unpleasant thing with which to occupy myself.

The lights started to go down
in the auditorium and people began taking their seats. I
separated from my mother and looked for a good seat close to the
front. I quickly found one and sat down. An orator was going to
be giving a speech and I was interested in hearing it. I myself
was even considering taking up oratory. I had never been good at
speaking in front of large crowds, but now I felt as if I might
like to do so. It had occurred to me that the proper method would
be to take some lessons from a speaking expert. I would have a
lot to learn. I thought about president Bill Clinton and wondered if he had ever taken such lessons.
Surely he had, he had to speak so often in front of crowds. I
began picturing in my mind what such lessons would be like. I
envisioned a bald middle-aged man taking the lessons. He had a
squeaky little voice and his teacher was trying to make him speak
better. The teacher was saying the man needed to use both his
nose and his mouth to put muscle in the voice. I could see I
would have a lot to learn. I would need to practice in a large
empty hall like this. I thought the best way would be to have a
speech memorized that I could say over and over. In my case,
since I knew several languages, I could practice the speech in
all the different languages. It would be an experience standing
in an empty a hall and practicing my speech.